Goodnight Little Dragon
by Llewellyn McEllis
Summary: A Malfoy family memory Returning late from a night out on the town with his wife, Lucius finds himself in reflection on his four year old son's inevitable growing up.


Lucius swept up behind her and circled an arm around her waist to bring her nearer. With a quick gesture he swept the hair away from her neck and bent down to kiss the bare skin there. She shivered at the touch of his lips and tilted her head just a little further to the left before lifting her hand up to draw him closer. A delighted groan rumbled in his throat when she wound her fingers into the shoulder-length locks of his silver-blond hair.

"You were perfect tonight, my lovely," he whispered, his breath cascading over the moist skin where he had left his kisses. "I couldn't keep my eyes off of you."

"I was perfect, wasn't I?" she tittered softly and turned her lips to graze the rough stubble on his cheek. "You were wonderful. The absolute life of the party," she complimented. "The women couldn't keep their eyes off of you, and I saw a few of them take their chances in just touching you." She licked her bottom lip in a quick, but clever flicker and looked into the mirror at their reflection. "I was the envy of them all."

Lucius grabbed at her chin and turned her face back to his and then drew his lips toward hers. He sunk easily into the promise of a very deep kiss, his mind carrying him away with the thought of where that kiss would lead with a few quick maneuvers and clever taunts. However, the sound of the door creaking opened behind them caused him to jump quickly away with cautious query, and both sets of eyes turned toward the door.

"Merlin's beard!" he muttered underneath his breath. "I knew I should have put a locking charm on that door years ago!"

"Mummy," a tiny voice questioned, and seconds later the face that belonged to that voice peered around the doorway, blinking with sleep in his eyes. "Mummy?" There was insecurity and a hint of fear in that word, the desperate longing for the comfort that only a mother could bestow with a few careful words and several hugs and kisses.

"I'm here, my little one," she drew away from Lucius too easily for his comfort and glided quickly across the room toward the door. The four year old stood clutching a his favorite blanket in one hand and a ragged teddy in the other, and when she scooped him into her arms, he made no qualms about dropping the blanket to cling in desperation to her neck. "What are you doing awake? Don't you know that it is very, very late?"

He drew back to look at her and nodded in the most somber fashion she had ever seen him display. "I had a bad dream."

"Oh dear me," she kissed his forehead.

Lucius drew up behind her and tilted his head to study the little person in his wife's arms, "Probably from all the chocolate that bloody house elf allows him to consume." He was perturbed, as any father would be at the spoiled prospect of a few private moments alone with his beautiful wife. "How many biscuits did you have before bed?"

Draco held out both of his hands and made three fingers on the right, four fingers on the left, "Twenty-three," he said.

"Twenty-three!" His mother cried. "My word, Draco, that's a record even for you. Twenty-three biscuits before bed. It's no wonder you're having nightmares!"

"That house elf has got to go!" Lucius exclaimed, throwing his arms up in exasperated defeat. "If it's not one thing with her, it's another! This is ridiculous!"

"She only does it because she loves him, Lucius," she shifted the boy onto her hip and started to pull open the door. "Now, let's say we get you back into bed and tucked in properly, my little Dragon."

"No," he rapidly shook his head, the white-blonde feathers of his soft hair flying even more askew than sleep had already made them. "No, I need to stay here with you and Daddy. I need to sleep in your bed!"

It was here that Lucius turned a very sharp and very self-important eye on his wife, for he had been discouraging her from allowing the little one to sleep in their bed since he was a baby, and yet she had insisted. It wouldn't' hurt him, she'd said. It would make him feel secure and loved. . .but Lucius wondered if she didn't realize that it was hurting them? Making him feel as a man less secure and loved.

"Oh no, no, Draco," he swept in and grabbed the boy from his mother and began toward the door with a playful look dazzling his silver stare. She followed on his heels as he threw open the door and began flying the child down the hallway in his arms while adding an array of interesting, yet completely random sound effects.

"For real, Daddy!" Draco clapped. "I want to fly for real."

"You know what your mummy's said about flying in the house," Lucius reminded him with a clever wink.

Prompted by his father, Draco repeated her stern warning, "Flying in the house will only result in broken bones and trips to St. Mungo's."

"That's right."

"When I grow up I want to always fly in the house," the little boy smirked with clever insubordination in his mother's direction and then returned his attention to his father. "Did you fly in the house when you were a little boy, Daddy?"

"Only when my mother wasn't looking," Lucius cast a wary smile at his wife. "Of course, she was always looking, always watching over me because she had eyes in the back of her head, you see, and she had charmed all of the portraits in the entire manor to report back to her when I was misbehaving. It was very difficult to get away with much."

Wide eyed at the prospect, Draco looped his arms around his father's neck and grinned in the most devilish manner. "Did you misbehave a lot then, Daddy?"

"Well," Lucius leaned in a little, pausing just outside Draco's bedroom door. "Just between you and me, some of the portraits are rather easily bribed with compliments and promises of visitation."

"What are complitations?"

"Compliments and visitations," Lucius corrected him. "Compliments are nice things you say about someone, such as when you look at your Mummy and tell her just how absolutely beautiful she is."

"Like right now?" Draco glanced over his father's shoulder at her and smiled.

"Just like right now," Lucius agreed.

Behind them she had taken out her wand and muttered the incantation which set the carousel night lamp to ride and cast the patterns of its animals on the wall and ceiling for Draco to admire, and then she raised the lights completely before walking over to his bed and turning down the blankets. She sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the mattress, "Come along into bed, Draco."

"But I want to sleep with you and Daddy," he was stubborn in his insistence, a trait that she was always blaming Lucius for.

"Oh no," she shook her head. "You cannot sleep with Daddy and I tonight."

Lucius handed him down to her and she rolled him into his bed. "That's right," Lucius added. "Tonight is completely out of the question."

"But why?"

"Well… because it. . . it. . . well. . . it just is and that's my final word," Lucius replied. "Now put your legs down and cover up."

Draco never directly listened to what his father told him to do, in fact, most of the time he did the exact opposite just because he very much liked the attention he got when his father argued with him. "I don't want to cover up," he said.

"Draco," his mother turned her head to the side and cast a very strong look that spoke volumes. Lucius was amazed that nothing more than a look from her and the careful pronunciation of the boy's name was enough to get him to comply in most cases. He watched the little legs collapse and the small body wriggle impatiently as she reached down to draw the blankets up around him. "Now you're going to be a good little boy and go straight to sleep, aren't you?"

"Not a boy," he shook his head.

"Not a boy?" she remarked. "Oh yes, that's right. You're not a boy, are you?" He shook his head again, grinning the most self-assured smile Lucius had ever seen him display. "You're a dragon."

"A mighty dragon!" He corrected her.

"That's right," she nodded slowly. "You're Mummy's mighty dragon, which is why you must sleep here in your bed all alone, isn't it? Because it takes a very big boy to be a mighty dragon."

"Dragons are never afraid," he told his father.

"Of course they're not."

"That's right, Draco. Dragons are never to be afraid, and do you know why that is?" She asked him, tapping a gentle touch to the tip of his nose before she leaned down and kissed that very same place. Draco shook his head no. "Because dragons are the most mighty of all the beasts. Everything else is afraid of the dragon. Isn't that right, Daddy?"

Lucius had crossed his arms from his standpoint, but now he found them coming down at his sides as he nodded, "Yes, yes, absolutely right."

"Is the dark afraid of dragons?"

In that moment Lucius understood just how clever the boy was, just how much of a danger he would be one day with all his worldly knowledge and cleverness. He was very much like his mother, with all the right dashes of Malfoy wit and charm. "The dark is very afraid of dragons, Draco, do you know why?"

"Why, Daddy?"

"Because with a single, fiery breath the dragon can make even the darkness disappear."

Contemplative, Draco looked to his left, away from both of his parents for a moment as though he were searching for the perfect comeback to demonstrate his understanding. A momentary scowl crinkled his face, and then he said, "I wish I had fire breath."

"Yes, well, it's a fine wonder that you don't," his mother sighed. "I'd be forever replacing the draperies and upholstery if your breath were fire. And of course I'd be forced to forfeit kissing you good night for fear that my very lips would be burned."

"Ouch," he touched his lips in thought.

"Now give us a kiss while there's still no danger of fire," she touched her cheek just at the corner of her mouth and he shot upright quickly to bestow the kiss she sought. He then wrapped his arms around her neck and kissed her again on the lips and the other cheek and then he fell back into the bed with a sigh. "Good night, my little dragon," she rose from the side of his bed. "Have mighty dreams," she said.

"Good night, Mummy." He looked to his father who still stood at the side of his bed. "Good night, Daddy."

"Good night, Draco." He tousled the boy's hair, and then gave in to the moment that compelled him to lean down and hug him. He was strangely surprised, as he often was when sharing affections with anyone, when Draco planted a quick, but carefully plotted kiss just there on his father's cheek. A strange, but pleasant warmth moved through him, and he even found himself smiling as he stepped back and looked down at his son. "Dream well," he started toward the door. His wife had already left the room and was halfway up the stairs to their bedroom by the time he reached the doorway.

"Daddy," he called in a near panic as Lucius began to close the door.

He stopped and leaned back into the room, "What is it, Draco?"

Draco looked around as though he were nervous, afraid the he would get into trouble for stalling, and then he said, "Nothing, Daddy. Just. . ." and he paused for a moment, dragging out the entire scenario the way any clever four year old might try. "Just, I love you."

The warmth returned, melting away his tendency toward a stern disposition. It wasn't often that he shared such moments with his son, but his wife had taught him to appreciate and cherish them. The twitches of a grin began at the corners of his mouth, and then he said, "I love you too," before stepping out into the hallway and pulling to door so it was only open a crack.

The light from his carousel spilled just into the darkness, illuminating the path that led Lucius back upstairs to his bedroom and his wife. She had resumed her seat in front of the vanity and was brushing out the flaxen length of her lovely hair. He closed the door and took out his wand to charm it locked behind him, and he started toward the vanity table.

He paused behind her and looked at her in the mirror. No matter how often he looked at her, her ever changing beauty caught him by surprise. It was as though it came from somewhere deep within and was always reaching out to grab his attention. Of course it came from within, it came from her soul, for it was the soul in her that had taught him the consequences and rewards that came with loving another. He was drawn to his own reflection beside hers, and for a moment he lamented the fact that there would be no others like Draco to melt their hearts and lighten their lives. Once blessed—and already that blessing was growing fast and slipping out of their hands. Before he knew it Draco would be a young man, off to school and off on his very own path. He wouldn't write home, he wouldn't talk to them at all. . . he'd drift away and leave them alone and in that time when they had nothing left but one another they would miss him more than they had ever imagined possible.

"What is it?" She reached behind her and took his hand, drawing it in to rest on her shoulder. She turned her kiss to graze his knuckles and asked, "What are you thinking, my love?"

Lucius looked down and brought in a heavy breath, which he released in a slow, but comfortable sigh, "Nothing," he said. "It was nothing at all." He lowered a kiss to her expectant cheek, and then a small sound arrived from just outside the door. It was a knock, he thought, the tiny knuckles of time rapping. He returned to his full height and looked toward the door, his wife's gaze following in that direction.

She started to rise, but with a slow hand he urged her to sit down, "I'll take care of him this time."

"Lucius. . ."

But he had already started toward the door, and when he opened it to see the little boy on the other side he was relieved and glad to see that he was still innocent, still afraid and still very much dependant upon their love and sheltering to get him through the night. He bent and scooped the boy up into his arms and started back into the bedroom. She had risen from the vanity now and watched with strange curiosity as he took the boy straight to their bed and laid him down in the center.

"Just for tonight," he told his son.

Draco nodded. "Just for tonight."

And as the little boy scrambled to secure himself beneath the blankets of his mother and father's bed, Lucius tossed her a humble look and shrugged his shoulders, "Sometimes even the mighty need a little reassurance."

She smiled and nodded understanding before she sat down on the edge of the bed and reached over to smooth the blankets over their little boy. It had only been a few seconds, barely less then a minute, and already the mighty dragon had fallen fast asleep among the pillows.


End file.
